


In Step

by fits_in_frames



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-03-14
Updated: 2005-03-14
Packaged: 2018-01-21 17:37:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1558574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fits_in_frames/pseuds/fits_in_frames
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's some sort of unwritten rule, even among Muggles, he thinks, that says you can't walk beside someone unless you are the very best of friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Step

There's some sort of unwritten rule, even among Muggles, he thinks, that says you can't walk beside someone unless you are the very best of friends. If you fall in step with someone you don't know, or someone you don't like, or someone you only kind of know, or even someone you're fairly good friends with, one of you is obliged to fall behind or speed up a little bit so that you're not walking shoulder to shoulder, and risking (oh! that awkward and unforgivable sin) eye contact.

James and Sirius, they always walk next to each other. First year, they even walked onto the train next to each other—arms linked, in fact—doing a lot of side-shuffling and causing many a bruised elbow. They were, of course, laughing the whole time. You can do that when you're eleven. You can walk arm in arm with your best mate and giggle like a lunatic and even skip a little if you want to, and no one cares. They say, _oh look at those boys, aren't they so sweet, they must be the best of friends, Remus why don't you have any friends like that?_ At least, that's what he said to himself when they stopped at his compartment and asked him if they could sit there, the rest of the train was full. He had said yes, offered them some train chocolate (they took most of it, of course) and immediately looked back down at his book, finding that he'd forgotten what he was reading about all together, and feeling something very much like words simmering in his throat

Remus used to walk behind them, mostly because he could slip down a corridor at whenever a teacher or a Slytherin (or a Peter, he thinks guiltily) would corner them. Up until fourth year, he was good at staying out of trouble, but he was better at avoiding association with their ridiculous antics. He could still join in on the conversation, if he wanted, and every once in a while, Sirius would turn around (or sometimes just project his voice backwards) and say, "Remus—" (this later changed to Moony, of course) "—you still back there?" He would ignore his racing heart and put on his best grin and sometimes even give Sirius the thumbs-up, but as soon as Sirius turned around again, he'd swallow hard to rid his mouth of anything he might want to say, and immediately go back to looking at his shoes or reading his book.

He didn't mind walking behind James. When James would look back at him, it was actually quite comforting. James had a way of smirking just right so that Remus knew that he, too, thought Sirius was taking the joke too far, or was being a bit too loud about Certain Things, but because he was James, because he was the one walking next to Sirius, he couldn't say anything.

Peter almost always started out walking behind Remus, trying to peer at whatever book or piece of parchment or gadget he had in his hands and ask him, "What's that, Remus?" or "Is that for a class? Do I have to know about this stuff?" Remus would give him one- and two-word answers and after a time, he would abandon his shoulder for James' (always James', never Sirius') and try to get in on the Obviously Very Interesting Conversation that Remus usually wanted nothing to do with.

When he was made a prefect, he started walking in front of them. Though he hates to admit it, it really was to assert a little power over them, to show them he was not just Moony the Bookworm or Moony the Party-Pooper or Moony the Imbecile, but also Moony the Prefect. Within a month he had perfected his _FIVE MILLION POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR IF YOU KEEP THIS UP_ look that he would throw over his shoulder when they became particularly bawdy or ridiculous in their plans for that night's activities. Peter would poke his head between them and look up, completely oblivious; James would do his James-smirk; and Sirius would go pale for an instant before Remus raised one side of his mouth and looked forward again, oftentimes narrowly avoiding a group of second years or a Particularly Attractive Witch. He got some kind of pleasure seeing that Sirius feared him for that moment, a sick pleasure that turned into an even sicker knot in the middle of his chest that didn't go away for at least an hour—eventually it didn't go away at all—and made it intensely difficult to sleep some nights.

The only times he walks in step with James and Sirius are the mornings after full moons. But that doesn't really count, he thinks, because he isn't exactly _walking_. They do all the walking; he's usually only semi-conscious. They're afraid to levitate him, so they carry him between them; Peter takes up the back and keeps watch. Sometimes he'll open his eyes and, not quite sure where he is and completely terrified, turn to his right (always to his right) to see Sirius' face. Sirius looks very helpless and protective all at once (both of which, he always thinks later, are very Not-Sirius ways to look), puts his hand over Remus' and massages his fingers until the fear gripping his throat dissipates. He vaguely remembers being kissed on the forehead a few times, but it could have just been a side effect of going from man to wolf to man again, and still being awake at 5:30 in the morning. Though, every time he remembers it, the kiss is so real that it's a little harder to breathe.

Now that James is Head Boy, he always walks around with Lily, meeting to discuss his Greatly Ridiculous Plans with Sirius only in the dormitory at night, with Peter abandoning his homework to join them and Remus trying desperately to concentrate on his. He often gives up and escapes to the library where he can get away from their excessive laughter and Sirius' occasional-but-increasing concerned glances.

He likes being in the library. Books are comforting to him: they don't talk back, they don't tell you you're no fun, and you might even learn something (that doesn't involve 20 Slytherin girls' skirts and some sort of jinxed powder) if you try hard enough. Sometimes he'll go there just to wander around the stacks, taking great joy in having a bar of chocolate all to himself (allowed by special permission from Dumbledore after he received fifteen detentions in as many days during second year). But the thing he likes best about the library is that he goes alone. There's no one telling him to live a little, and there’s no uncomfortable silence when he finally decides to cough up the words that are caught on the back of his tongue, which often garner odder-than-usual looks from Sirius. He doesn't even have to be Moony. He's just Remus. He likes that.

***

This is one of those nights in the library when he has fallen asleep one too many times on top of his half-finished essay on the 28th battle at Who-Knows-Where during the Goblin War of a Million Years Ago That No One, Not Even Remus, Cares About. If only to wake himself up, he starts walking up and down the aisles of books, running his finger up and down the spine of each book, and making mental notes on ones he's read and ones he should have read and ones he'll never touch again in his life. A couple of first-year Hufflepuffs give him an odd look as they scurry past him with their little arms full of books. He bites off another hunk of chocolate and hears what is unmistakably Sirius entering the library.

"Moony?" comes a loud but uncharacteristically tentative voice over the tops of the bookshelves. A few people hiss in a futile attempt to get him quiet.

Remus ignores him, and is trying to decide whether he's ever read _A Thousand and One Ways to Keep Your Wand In Working Order_ when he suddenly appears at the end of the row, grinning. "Hi Moony."

He nods absently. "Hallo Sirius." He really has no desire to talk to anyone—least of all Sirius—at the moment. The book starts glowing and he pushes it back with the tip of his wand.

After a half a minute, Sirius begins wringing his hands. "Hey Moony, ah, the library's about to close."

Without taking his eyes off the spine of _How to Recognize a Malfunctioning Wand_ , he says, "I'm surprised at you, Pads. For someone who hasn't been here since third year, you know the schedule pretty well."

"Well, ah," Sirius begins, now scratching the back of his neck. "I, ah, I thought..." He takes a breath and says, seemingly as fast as he can, "IthoughtIcouldwalkyouback."

Remus finally turns to him, completely perplexed. The only word his mouth will form is, "What?"

"I thought I could walk you ba—"

"I heard you, Sirius." He doesn't mean to sound exasperated, but he does. He replaces _Wands: A Complete Guide_ on the shelf. (No wonder he's never read any of these books, he thinks.) "Just doesn't sound like you, is all." He raises an eyebrow.

"Well, okay. James is off with Ms. Perfect Lily Evans Herself, and so Peter's actually doing his homework, and so I was—" He looks at the ground and mumbles, "I was lonely."

Remus sighs. "Of course you can walk me back, Pads. Just let me get my things." Sirius looks very relieved that all this took place in the Section of the Library About Wands That No One Ever Goes To. He at least looks like he feels much better: he's on Remus' heels the whole way back to the table. Remus is surprised he doesn't try to lick his face.

As they make their way down the hallway, his right hand is on his bag, and his left swings dangerously close to Sirius. After a few moments, his knuckles brush Sirius' hand. In a motion that afterwards he's sure was entirely too big, he puts his hand in his pocket, under the pretense of pulling out another piece of chocolate, but it just stays there. He tries to be stealthy about slowing down ever so slightly so he's a quarter-pace behind, but Sirius catches on.

"Hallo, Moony, what's this?" He grabs Remus by the elbow and pulls him up. He still refuses to take his hand out of his pocket, even though the chocolate is beginning to melt, and he's sure that in a minute or less there will be only a sticky wrapper and possibly a nasty stain that he'll have to soak for a week before it will come out. He looks at the ground, eyes flicking back and forth between his own feet and Sirius'. They're walking at exactly the same pace. When, a moment later, he's dragged down a side hallway, he realizes that Sirius is still holding on to his elbow.

"Sirius, what—" he begins. Sirius' face is closer than he can ever remember it being. He can't quite see straight and ponders trying on James' glasses later tonight.

"Moony. Remus." Sirius has one hand on the wall above Remus' shoulder, and the other is actually on him, pressing down, planting him in the ground. He doesn't know how to react, so he says nothing. Sirius lowers his eyes, and seems very small all of a sudden. "Remus," he says softly.

He's never seen Sirius like this before. No, that's a lie. This is how he looks in the wee hours, when Remus still feels like a wolf inside. He's sure his heart will leap out of his throat at any moment, and he tries desperately to get out of Sirius' grasp, but his feet won't move, surely because of some silent charm that he's unfamiliar with. "Let me go," he whispers.

Sirius takes his hands down and looks around, as if he were about to be caught playing a prank. A very cruel prank, Remus thinks. He mumbles, "Sorry," and takes a few steps so he's back in the corridor, back in the light. (Remus actually finds himself very mobile.) They walk for a bit, not speaking, a fraction of a pace off, until Sirius suddenly stops again, and whirls around so they're facing each other.

"Pads, honestly—" he begins shakily.

"Look, Remus. Moony. I—I didn't entirely tell you the truth before."

"Well, that's a first." He wants to sound sarcastic, but the combination of nerves and confusion has made his voice higher than normal, and he's fairly sure that however he tries to sound, it will just come out as squeaky. He decides to shut his mouth until he can fix this.

"James was still there. Peter was still there. We were having a grand old time, and then I looked over at your Lonely Corner of Academic Gloom, and not even your books were there. I was worried about you." He puts a hand on Remus' shoulder. Remus makes a noise somewhere between a hum and a squeak. "I know it's a stupid thing to do, but I was worried. Dammit, Moony, I hate it when you just leave and don't say anything!" He sounds like he wants to kick something, but hasn't raised his voice or moved his feet. A couple of fifth-year Ravenclaws (prefects, probably, he thinks) are watching from the end of another hallway. Sirius snarls at them and turns back; they leave in a hurry. "Remus, I—" He suddenly seems at a loss for words, so he leaves the sentence hanging and lowers his eyes again.

Remus puts his hand over Sirius', and holds it between them. There's a thousand things bubbling in his throat that he could say: _Don't worry about me, Sirius, let's go back to the dormitory_ , or _Next time I should take James' cloak, then_ , or even _You're right, Pads, I should have told you I was going, now let's cause some trouble_. Instead, the words that come out before he can stop them are, "Did you just try and kiss me back there?" He literally bites his tongue when it comes back in his head, so hard that he tastes blood.

Sirius pulls him down the hall where the Ravenclaws were and walks him backwards into the wall. It's dark: there are no torches or windows, but it's a new moon tonight anyway, so it really doesn't matter, does it. He never feels quite safe in the dark and wants desperately to pull out his wand and shout _LUMOS_ as loud as he can, but his voice is caught on the back of his tongue, and Sirius is holding his hands to the wall. It's just as well that he can't see anything but an outline of Sirius' face, because he has a feeling that he'd do something that he'd regret immediately if he could. He coughs, half-heartedly.

"Well," he says in the most matter-of-fact tone that one can produce when one is pinned to a stone wall by one's best friend, "did you?"

He sees the glint of Sirius' eyes moving, surveying him, and he can almost hear the wheels clicking behind them as he tries to think of a response. He wrenches one hand, but only succeeds in getting a scrape on his wrist that stings horribly against the cold stone. He closes his eyes. He wants to punch Sirius or throw up, or both. He wants to be back in the Common Room, listening to James and Sirius talking about how to get their next supply of Firewhiskey and Peter chiming in saying he could scope it out, and then yelling at them to be quiet and finally giving up and go to bed and working on his damn essay there. He wants to put his blankets over his head and bring his knees up to touch his chin and cry himself to sleep and wake up in the morning, bleary-eyed and sore. He even wants to command the moon to skip the next two weeks. He wants to be anywhere but here, doing anything but this. Instead, he swallows.

He's about to open his mouth to say something (though he's not quite sure what) when suddenly his wrists are released. Sirius walks backwards until he collides with the opposite wall and buries his face in his hands and slides down so his knees are against his chest. Remus steps cautiously forward, kneels down next to him, puts a hand on his shoulder, fairly sure that this is the closest to tears he's ever seen him. Sirius reaches up instinctively and rubs Remus' fingers in a very comforting way. As best he can, he puts his arms around Sirius. For once, he's glad they're in a Dark Hallway With No One Else In Sight.

Sirius draws a shallow breath. "I didn't think it would be this hard." He attempts a laugh, but it comes out as something between a cough and a hiccup. "Jamie even said, this would be the perfect opportunity. You wouldn't expect it, and I was feeling brave, but _damn_ , Remus. When it's real, it's incredibly hard. Did you know that? I can play with Prongs, and Peter, and even Dumbledore if the occasion arises. But not you. This—it's _real_. You were right before, you know. I'm not myself. I guess you could tell." He laughs again, and this time it's more like the real thing. "I _did_ try to kiss you. I thought, I've done it before, a million times, a million girls. But this. _This_."

Remus doesn't know what to say. He still wants to throw up, but the desire to punch Sirius in the nose has fled. He certainly was not expecting this. Maybe, _James and I had a huge fight_ or _I got a letter from home_ or even _I can't stand it, I need your help on my homework_ , but not this. Never this.

No, that's another lie, he thinks as the last six years flood over him. It all suddenly makes sense. He can't help himself.

He starts laughing.

"Oh, this is funny, is it?" Sirius' voice has an edge of disdain on it, but Remus is rolling on the floor, and barely hears it.

"Yes," he gasps, "this is absolutely hysterical." He sits up, wipes his eyes, and takes Sirius' hand. "Oh, Padfoot—"

"Well, if you're done," Sirius says dejectedly, making to get up, "I think we should get headed back."

Remus yanks on his arm so he's forced to sit down. "I am done, but I don't think we should go anywhere."

Sirius is about to start a sentence that was certainly going to ask Remus what the bloody hell he was talking about, when Remus kisses him. The angle is just right to give him a sore neck for two weeks and his hand is falling asleep, but he doesn't care. The only thing he knows is this isn't like kissing a girl: Girls have that softness and that gentleness and that _delicateness_ about them, and you're often afraid you'll crush those beautiful lips if you go too hard on them. Sirius provides a resistance that isn't about disgust or surprise so much as it is about being a boy, about being _Sirius_ , and Remus doesn't hold back. He tastes a trickle of blood that he's almost positive is coming from his own lip as a result of his own teeth. He holds there, awkwardly, for a moment, then pulls off and pushes himself up.

Sirius, who seems rather unfazed by (and almost thankful for) the events of the last minute, grins. "Moony, I had no idea.”

"No idea what?" Remus asks, standing up and holding out a hand for Sirius. With the back of his other hand, he wipes his mouth. Essence of Sirius, he thinks.

"That you kissed that good." He takes Remus' hand, though he doesn't really seem to need it.

"That _well_ ," Remus corrects.

***

On the way back to the dormitory, they end up holding hands. Remus isn't quite sure how this happened, but he doesn't protest, mainly because he's never held hands with anyone besides his mother, not even when he was eleven. On the contrary, he holds on tight. Sirius starts giggling and by the time they reach their destination, he's lucky at least one of them can spit out the password.

When they walk into the Common Room, James practically bounces up and down and claps his hands and hugs them both. Peter smiles up from his homework. Lily even gives them a friendly little smirk.

Remus goes to sleep for the first time in years with no uncomfortable feeling in the middle of his chest or desire to curl up in a ball and shut out the world. He's fairly sure that Sirius slips into bed with him after midnight, as he wakes up with a mouthful of dark hair and smiles despite it.

***

On the way to class, James and Lily have their heads together in a Thoughtful Conversation, which Peter has enough sense to not interrupt, though he continues to walk slightly behind them.

Behind them a little further, Remus has one hand on his bag and the other appears to be lost in his robes. Sirius, however, is walking dangerously close to him with a more-mischievous-than-usual grin on his face. Their strides match exactly, and neither of them makes any effort to change that. For what he's sure is the first time in his life, Remus feels the strange urge to start skipping. He catches Sirius’ eye, and before he knows it, they are bounding down the hallway, laughing like madmen.


End file.
